The Heroes; Or, Greek Fairy Tales for My ChildrenKingsley, Charles
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The Heroes; Or, Greek Fairy Tales for My Children
Kingsley, Charles
Mythology, Greek -- Juvenile literature
‘That is a fair land and large, Theseus my son; and it looks toward the
sunny south; a land of olive-oil and honey, the joy of Gods and men. For
the Gods have girdled it with mountains, whose veins are of pure silver,
and their bones of marble white as snow; and there the hills are sweet
with thyme and basil, and the meadows with violet and asphodel, and the
nightingales sing all day in the thickets, by the side of ever-flowing
streams. There are twelve towns well peopled, the homes of an ancient
race, the children of Kekrops the serpent king, the son of Mother Earth,
who wear gold cicalas among the tresses of their golden hair; for like
the cicalas they sprang from the earth, and like the cicalas they sing
all day, rejoicing in the genial sun. What would you do, son Theseus, if
you were king of such a land?’
Then Theseus stood astonished, as he looked across the broad bright sea,
and saw the fair Attic shore, from Sunium to Hymettus and Pentelicus, and
all the mountain peaks which girdle Athens round. But Athens itself he
could not see, for purple Ægina stood before it, midway across the sea.
Then his heart grew great within him, and he said, ‘If I were king of
such a land I would rule it wisely and well in wisdom and in might, that
when I died all men might weep over my tomb, and cry, “Alas for the
shepherd of his people!”’
And Aithra smiled, and said, ‘Take, then, the sword and the sandals, and
go to Ægeus, king of Athens, who lives on Pallas’ hill; and say to him,
“The stone is lifted, but whose is the pledge beneath it?” Then show him
the sword and the sandals, and take what the Gods shall send.’
But Theseus wept, ‘Shall I leave you, O my mother?’
But she answered, ‘Weep not for me. That which is fated must be; and
grief is easy to those who do nought but grieve. Full of sorrow was my
youth, and full of sorrow my womanhood. Full of sorrow was my youth for
Bellerophon, the slayer of the Chimæra, whom my father drove away by
treason; and full of sorrow my womanhood, for thy treacherous father and
for thee; and full of sorrow my old age will be (for I see my fate in
dreams), when the sons of the Swan shall carry me captive to the hollow
vale of Eurotas, till I sail across the seas a slave, the handmaid of the
pest of Greece. Yet shall I be avenged, when the golden-haired heroes
sail against Troy, and sack the palaces of Ilium; then my son shall set
me free from thraldom, and I shall hear the tale of Theseus’ fame. Yet
beyond that I see new sorrows; but I can bear them as I have borne the
past.’
Then she kissed Theseus, and wept over him; and went into the temple, and
Theseus saw her no more.
PART II
HOW THESEUS SLEW THE DEVOURERS OF MEN
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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